


Paperwork

by hellostarlight20



Series: Prompts [37]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: For the timepetalsprompt: Tentoo x Rose … when is his birthday and more importantly how old is he?





	

“Rose?” The Doctor looked up from the mound of paperwork he was forced to slough through. “Why is this actual paperwork? Why hasn’t Humanity evolved beyond it?”

“Is that your real question?” She wandered in, two mugs of tea in hand, and a tray of jammy dodgers balanced atop them.

“No. Just a whine.” He sighed and took the tray, setting it on their kitchen table.

Rose leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. He’d never take for granted this new intimacy between them, not if they each lived to be 900. Which was his problem.

“I need a birthday.”

She blinked down at him. “Ah.”

Instead of sitting on his lap, which the Doctor preferred, she sat in the second chair next to him. Pity. She leaned on one hand and absently twirled her hair, eyes almost golden in the sunlight. Unable to resist—and he didn’t need to resist any more!—the Doctor leaned over and kissed her again.

Loved the kissing.

“How do I narrow down my life into eight digits?”

“Does your Gallifreyan birthdate translate into Earth time?”

He did a quick calculation then shrugged. “Are we talking the moment I was loomed? The moment I met my genetic parents? The moment I looked into the untempered schism?”

Rose opened her mouth then closed it and laughed. She sipped her tea and nibbled on a biscuit. “How about something much simpler? The day we—well, that day on—” she sighed. “How about our first day together?”

The Doctor knew what she wanted to say, that day on the beach when the Time Lord Doctor dropped them off. He didn’t bring it up, either. In the week since their return, and the week since they admitted they still loved each other, they hadn’t actually talked.

Talking was for later.

It was always for later.

“All right. And the year?”

“Can’t put your real age,” Rose mused into her tea mug. She looked up at him and tilted her head, squinting a little. “Say…what, 35-ish?”

“What?” He squawked. “Rose Tyler, I’ll have you know I do not look like a Human 35!” He sniffed. “At the most—the most!—32.”

“Oh?” She chewed her lip on a grin.

He grabbed her around the waist, hauling her onto his lap. Rose ran her fingers through his hair and the Doctor sighed.

“Does it matter?” she asked softly. “It’s a number and a lie no matter how we look at it. So’s mine, my birthdate on all this paperwork. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right.” He kissed her softly and breathed in the scent of _home_ and _Rose_ that clung to the skin of her neck. “It doesn’t. And who knows? Between my still-half Time Lordliness—” she snickered as she was meant to—“and Bad Wolf, who knows what our lifespans might be.”

Rose looked to the corner where the baby TARDIS coral soaked up the sunlight and carefully mixed nutrients they’d prepared. “Exactly.”

“I suppose age really is just a number.” The Doctor pulled back and set her feet on the floor then stood and took her hand. “And since we don’t know, it doesn’t matter.”

“Where are we going?” She asked, laughing as he tugged her through the flat.

“Out. To celebrate my birthday, of course!”

Rose leaned her head on his arm, so reminiscent of how they used to walk through alien markets or downtown London. Before. The Doctor hoped to have those trips again. Even if it was exploring this universe’s London. Together, hand in hand, with Rose. 

“Happy Birthday, Doctor.”

“And many more, Rose Tyler.”


End file.
